Archive for January, 2008
Last night, I did something I’ve never done before: Stood outside the stage door to have the actors sign my playbill!
Last night, as a 30th birthday gift, my wonderful husband took me to see Wicked.
I’ve seen plenty of Broadway and West End theatre, but no show ever came as close to being perfect as Wicked.
We had the privilege of seeing the standby for Elphaba, Lisa Brescia, along with the rest of the stellar cast.
I found myself crying throughout, especially during a sequence without words. Elphaba, the outcast, showed up to the dance in town and began dancing without music, much to the chagrin of the rest of the Shiz student body.
In a moment, Elphaba’s pain registered on her nemesis Glinda’s face, and her entire demeanor changed. Glinda then joined Elphaba, mirroring her movements, and soon, the entire dance hall was echoing their movements.
It was a pivotal point in the show, for it was from this point onward that the girls become friends.
This same phenomenon, the dancing wordless moment that becomes the turning point to propel the action of the story, happens in the Little Mermaid, when Eric shows Ariel how to dance. In that moment, though he doesn’t realize it, he falls in love with her.
I have a similar moment in my musical Another Place In Time, when Joshua and Maria share a dance. That moment opens the door for them to explore the chemistry they feel, despite their differences and the conflict of interest.
Another amazing moment in last night’s show was the closing number of Act I, “Defying Gravity.” After having her hopes and fantasies dashed by her realization of reality, Elphaba defies — and literally turns her back on, authority and realizes that she must strike out on her own in order to reach her potential and become self-actualized.
Again, I saw an echo of this in my own work. At the end of Act I of Another Place In Time, in “Think It Over” Maria and Elitzia strike out on their own. And though it is a more intimate number, a mother and daughter going into the great unknown, it is a huge moment in Maria’s personal development and quest for independence.
And again, this also parallels Mermaid’s final song in Act I, “Poor Unfortunate Souls” where Ursula casts her spell and Ariel is thrust to the surface to find her way and stand on her own two feet.
I make these comparisons to cement what I already know, a strong story is the essence of a good musical. The music naturally springs from the action to keep the momentum of the story going.
Last night I got a wonderful gift, knowing I’m on the right track…
–Sue
January 31st, 2008
Last night, hubby and I watched one of our favorite shows, Bravo’s Project Runway.
Ricky, the designer many thought should have been gone many shows ago, finally won a challenge!
At one point, he said that he “didn’t care what the judges thought,” but when they gave him credit and praise for the wonderful work he did, he began to cry.
Supermodel Heidi Klum said, “What’s up with you?”
An overwhelmed Ricky responded, “This is a roller coaster, every challenge, you don’t know where to go, if you suck or don’t suck…”
Famed fashion designer Michael Kors responded, “That never stops.”
And I think Michael is right. And it’s something that’s true for fashion and entertainment, or any field where one is constantly creating something out of nothing, something new…
When you’re always pushing to get to the top, you only see that you have so much more to go, you don’t know what the view is like from up there. And I think that’s what Ricky was feeling… he was in a totally different place, and he was taking in the vistas — a place where he was satisfied, where he had accomplished what he set out to do.
The problem is, for most artists, we don’t have a judge or mentor on the spot telling us what is good or bad, what needs work and what can stand on it’s own. Though it can be nerve racking, it’s feedback that helps an artist grow.
I picked a lonely road for myself… a lot of what I do happens well before anyone sees it, and then I have to trust that what I’ve done is good — trust it enough to send it out and hope someone else thinks it’s as good as I do, good enough to invest talent, time, and money into bringing it to life.
But maybe I need to think like Ricky did, and stop worrying. Just go forward with what I think is right… When I trust in what I’ve put on the page, others will trust enough to put it on stage…
My daily horoscope this morning summed it up best:
“Do you feel like you’re waiting around for the right person to give you permission to move up? Well, you can stop waiting. There is no right person. So just head on up and see what happens.”
Hold on to the handle bars with me, and let’s “Watch what happens!“
–Sue
January 25th, 2008
The principle of art is to pause, not bypass. The principles of true art is not to portray, but to evoke. This requires a moment of pause–a contract with yourself through the object you look at or the page you read. In that moment of pause, I think life expands. And really the purpose of art–for me, fiction–is to alert, to indicate to stop, to say: Make certain that when you rush through you will not miss the moment which you might have had, or might still have. That is the moment of finding something which you have not known about yourself, or your environment, about others and about life.
Kosinski, Jerzy. Passing By. New York: Grove, 1991.
I came across this quote the other day and felt that it really sums up what my art is, and in fact, what this blog is. This blog is a means for pause, and appreciation.
More than just reporting on events or happenings, I’m recording moments… moments that are so easy to forget, but that I choose to share as part of what forms my view of the world, as a person and as an artist.
Any character’s life, any person’s life, is just that, a series of moments strung together to form a varied, colorful, wonderful tapestry.
Thank you, dear readers, for taking a moment to pause with me.
–Sue
January 20th, 2008
We won tickets to see Disney’s newest Broadway offering “The Little Mermaid” last night. (Thanks 106.7 Lite fm!)
There were some stunning set pieces and costumes. “Kiss the Girl” was the theatrical highlight of the evening. (Eric Grode’s review hit the nail on the hammerhead.)
The other highlight of the evening came during intermission, when I saw a sweet girl in front of me eyeing a button someone was wearing. She asked her mom how the woman got one. (Lite fm gave them to all of the lucky winners at dinner before the show, and I had an extra one.) I passed it to her, and she lit up brighter than the glowing sets.
She showed it to her mother and I heard her say, “And she smiled at me!” The little girl wore her new button proudly.
We struck up a chat, and she told me this was her fourth show. (She turned 7 yesterday, and Broadway was her birthday present.) She then shared her special wish with me: “I want to dance like Flotsam (one of Ursula’s electric eel henchmen) on stage when I grow up!”
I’ll see you on Broadway, Kid!
–Sue
January 16th, 2008
Jaques of “As You Like It” was right:
“All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances…“
I’m sure you’ve heard the argument before from those who say they don’t like musicals because people don’t “burst into song” in real life. Well, they just haven’t been on the subways lately…
I was riding the 6 train to Union Square and a performer with a guitar slung across his body and a harmonica by his mouth showed me the power of song.
He could barely get the words out to introduce himself or his song, but once he started singing, the whole car heard him. And after his performance, the riders (and patrons) commented on his “conviction” and “passion.”
On the street, so many would have passed him by without ever knowing the song in his heart. I’m glad I got a chance to hear it.
–Sue
January 10th, 2008
